


Constructed Conflicts

by heroictype (swanreaper)



Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: Car Accidents, F/F, Serious Injuries, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5754718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanreaper/pseuds/heroictype
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Juri finds Shiori, crumpled under the wreckage. She thinks, there isn't much she can do, but maybe what she can do will be enough. After all, anything is better than the Ohtori Academy infirmary. (Movieverse canon.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constructed Conflicts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cypsiman2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cypsiman2/gifts).



> A commission for cypsiman2, from tumblr! The scenario: Juri and Miki nurse Shiori back to health following the events of the movie. Featuring copious amounts of teenage angst and shades of bizarre architecture.

Juri veered off at the exit that would take them toward Ohtori Academy. They had to go back.

They had a choice, of course. She could have followed Utena and her driver. She could have followed Anthy and her strange choice of chariot. They could have leaped into the wide world, all at once, at Juri's simple twist of the wheel. But she could just envision the landing: banging and bruising, scraping themselves off the concrete or out of the flowerbed, whatever it was that awaited them.

They would live with the scars for the rest of their lives, each one of them, and she could hardly bear more resentment than she did already. She didn't trust herself to navigate alone, and she trusted the ones beside her even less.

She would never have found  _ her _ if she hadn't turned them around, either, but she didn’t appreciate that in the moment, as she slowed the car and began edging over toward the shoulder. She took in the scraped, dusky purple paint and the slender hand sticking out from under the wreck. She stamped down on the break, and her passengers jolted forward.

“ Juri? What's wrong?” Miki asked quietly, at the same time that Saionji demanded, “What was that? Do you need me to drive?”

“ Don't you dare touch the wheel,” she replied, slipping out onto the asphalt. She pitched forward at her first step; a sickening sensation of motion lingered, and for a moment the highway was still roaring around her. She pursed her lips and threw her hair back over her shoulder, and the world steadied. She strode up to the pile of warped metal and hauled a piece away. This revealed a head and torso.

Juri swallowed and stretched a hand out. Her fingers traced the trail of blood down the victim's forehead as it wandered over her cheek. Juri didn't say anything, or try to call the victim's attention to her. She only pressed shaking fingertips just under the side of the other girl's chin. A pulse jumped up to answer her gesture, and her eyes watered and stung. It was not from the smoke, though she would have said as much if anyone asked.

A grinding called her back to reality, and she turned to see Miki beside her, pushing away another fragment of car. She offered him an apologetic smile. “Thank you.”

He only tilted his head and nodded, privately trying to piece together what she was sorry about, while gratitude made more sense. “Of course.”

Saionji waited in the car with the face of someone who'd recently sucked a lemon. He watched them; they did not so much as look at him. There were no accusations or calls for help. He ground his teeth. Still, Miki and Juri tried to push away a huge chunk of car pinning Shiori, without much luck. Still, no one asked him. Finally, he snapped, “Fine! I’ll help, just stop that.” They were able to free her from the wreckage together. 

Her knee had twisted the wrong way. Blood soaked her arms and calf. She was also entirely naked. Miki popped open the trunk, and pulled a blanket out of the picnic basket inside. He stopped with his hand on the trunk, staring blankly as he sought to remember who had packed that and why. This had never been a friendly jaunt. No answer came to mind, however, so he pushed the trunk closed and offered the blanket to Juri.

As soon as she had the blanket, she arched her eyebrows at the boys and asked, “Well?”

Miki stiffened and spun on his heel, but Saionji lingered for a moment. He wasn't looking at Shiori, just Juri, with indignation twisting his features. Before he could snap about being told what to do, Juri added, “It's impolite to stare.”

Then, whether he was staring or not, Juri wrapped Shiori in the blanket. The scratchy fabric, far from sterile, would have to do. Still, she winced as she smoothed it down, doing her best to avoid the wounds. Miki helped her situate Shiori in the car, but there wasn't much they could do to avoid jostling her broken bones without asking Saionji to sit in the trunk. Juri considered it, but decided that even she would feel regret if he suffocated, and she just didn't have the emotional energy for that at the moment.

She started the car. Before, they had ridden in silence, but with Shiori, they chatted haltingly about exams and club practice schedules, as if daily life could drown out her barely-drawn breath.

* * *

 

Rows and rows of white-covered beds, stretching off beyond the horizon. Nothing else. No counters or cabinets, no medicine or bandages. If every student came down with a headache at once, Ohtori Academy was prepared to host them, and could do nothing for them. White tile gleamed on the floor; the white paint on the walls was broken only by posters of vague health advice. Probably at least one was about handwashing. Juri wasn't even certain that they said anything coherent, but like most people, she didn't care enough to look. She was staring at the nurse, with her hands folded neatly behind her back so that the woman couldn't see her tight fists.

“ I'm sorry. I don't have the capability to take care of this.” The nurse gestured at Shiori's prone body, now clad in a white gown, like she was telling Juri that there was a stain on the sheets, but if anything, the lack of color seemed infectious. Shiori was so pale, it was hard to believe she’d come through her ordeal with any blood at all. 

Perhaps after everything -- the collective lump of events that Juri could address -- the infirmary wouldn't have been the safest for Shiori, anyway. It didn't seem like it would be healthy for anyone, and Juri had no desire to stay long enough to confirm her suspicions. The nurse continued, “If you leave her here, we'll make arrangements for the burial. She can rest next to Mr. Ohtori; they're making a memorial graveyard on the spot where he was found.”

Juri drew in a breath, and with it, pulled all sharp words and gestures deep into her body. She shook her head, scooped Shiori into her arms, and walked out with the girl. The nurse made no attempt to stop her, but Juri thought she heard her click her tongue.

Miki was waiting for her outside. Shiori, cradled in Juri's arms, was warm and bony. Her hair tickled slightly, even through Juri's uniform. Juri asked, “Where did Saionji go?”

The boy laughed, crinkling the corners of his eyes, though his smile didn't make it all the way there. “He told me he didn't want to wait anymore, and I didn't try to make him stay. Somehow, I didn't think you would mind.”

“ I don't. You, though... Hmm,” she said, contemplating him openly. She adjusted Shiori so that the other girl's elbow stopped poking her ribs, then nodded, as if it were a normal moment of sizing-up between student council members. As if she didn't have the body of a fellow student in her arms. At least, as if it were just any old fellow student hanging there, as opposed to one who in fact hung from Juri's neck at all times.

“ So, what are we – or you, if you prefer – going to do about her?” Unfortunately, the pretense of normalcy wasn't quite enough to fool Miki. He cupped his chin between thumb and forefinger, casting anxious glances from Shiori's face to Juri's.

“ Well, if there isn't a 'we,' I don't see why I should tell you about it.”

“ Okay, then. I’ll help you,” he replied easily. He spoke with the innocence of youth, something Juri had left behind all of three years ago. 

Her mouth twisted. For now, he could help her best by giving her something else to focus on, but it wasn’t really about her. Shiori needed something else, something tangible. Her voice rang as if she were calling on the next fencer. “Alright. Go to the library and find some books on medical treatment. Particularly broken limbs and lacerations, please.”

Miki nodded and, without turning away, he stepped back. “Are you sure you don’t… Ah, never mind.”

She called after him as he left, “Thank you, Miki. Again.”

* * *

“ Alright, are you done?” Miki craned forward to examine the wrapping that Juri had completed. She had tied it off deftly, and it rested tightly against Shiori’s skin. Miki peered back and forth between the image in the book and the real-life illustration several times. He wanted to be sure, because it wasn’t just an example; if they did this wrong, Shiori might lose circulation or get an infection. A catalogue of every possible risk wasn’t included in the book, but it didn’t need to be for Miki to privately tally them up. Still, he didn’t find any flaws, so he said, “It looks correct. And that should take care of everything major.”

Juri straightened, propping her shoulders against the back of her chair and folding her arms over her chest. A sigh rose up from her lungs, but she caught it in her throat and swallowed it. She said, “Good. That went better than I was imagining.”

“ I’m glad. I thought this looked good…” He tapped the book’s cover, and then gave their patient another once-over. “I don’t know if the splints will be enough for a full recovery, but I think it’s safe to say she’ll survive, at this point.”

“ That’s good enough for me. Of course, she may have other ideas.”

“ Juri…”

Silence welled up. She didn’t want to pursue; she would rather have let him fill it, but when it became clear enough that he wasn’t going to advance, she said, “Yes?”

“ Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t know… You were shaking so badly in the car, and it took you three tries to get the first bandage on right,” he said, then bit his lip. The flaws weren’t quite what he wanted to focus on, but he understood the big picture through the details. He said, “I’m just concerned. I understand being disturbed by what she saw, but since you’ve calmed down, you seem almost…”

Juri’s eyes flicked up. She could tell how he was piecing things together. He fenced the same way, sizing up his opponent with remarkable speed and clarity, and turning strengths against them before they knew it. Of course, he probably wasn’t aware of how deeply his observations cut. She said, “I’m fine. Certainly, we have more important things to worry about right now.”

“ I see. Well… If you’re sure, Juri. But if you need anything, I… I can try to help with that, too,” he said, speeding up as he went, as he feared the sentence might stall otherwise. He pressed his clenched fists to his lap, and he sat up stiffly, facing her with wide eyes.

“ Oh? In that case…” She sought for something; she needed all the help she could get right now, but she hardly knew what she could safely ask for. As she watched Shiori, though, it occurred to her. “You go. Go to class, and you’re in charge of the club in my absence.”

“ What? So…” His brow furrowed, but he was a smart kid. He drew the lines quickly enough. “Are you going to be here?”

“ Yes. You’re right that she’ll probably be fine, but someone should keep an eye on her, and the bandages will need to be changed.” It was simpler to acknowledge the practical aspect, more than the sharp squeeze of her heart when she so much as thought about leaving Shiori like this. She looked small and cold, as weak as she evidently thought herself to be.

Miki nodded slowly as he came to accept the idea. “Okay. What should I tell them when they ask?”

Juri considered that for a moment, and then, with a thin smile, she said, “Just tell them I’m sick. Deathly ill, who knows when I’ll be back? There’s no reason to overcomplicate things.”

He replied,  “ I have to admit, I’m a little skeptical about how well that will work… But we’ll try.”

* * *

In the end, it worked like this: Miki reported back to Juri regularly, once before and after school. The teachers were, of course, asking about her, but the pressure they put on him was nothing compared to the student body. He’d been late to most of his classes after being trapped in corners by angry troupes of middle schoolers eager to find their prince. Somehow, they just knew he would be the one to have that information, and somehow, he persistently evaded their questions. He found it actually helped when he panicked; usually at least one of the group would shift guiltily when he grew distressed, and he took advantage of the weak point to push through.

He made it back to her safely. Juri sat by Shiori’s side, grim and pale. She’d always been statuesque, but this didn’t appear quite natural. He grew concerned when he’d realized she hadn’t slept in two days, and starting on the third day, he insisted on staying and studying in her room so that she could at least take a nap.

On the fourth day, Miki set his books aside to tip some broth into Shiori’s mouth. It was messy work; she didn’t swallow as much of it as they would have liked. They both had their doubts about her getting enough nutrients at a critical time, but as no IVs had made themselves evident, they didn’t have much choice. Juri typically handled it, but she had been asleep when he came in, and he couldn’t make himself wake her. The broth had been threatening to boil over, so he attended to that, instead..

Wait. No IVs, but somehow, she’d got a stove into the dorm. He didn’t think it had been here a few days ago. It wasn’t highly specialized medical equipment, but it gave him pause. He didn’t have time to think of it, though, as while he stared at the stove, he’d taken his eyes off the soup. Shiori started coughing as some slid down her throat the wrong way, and he slammed the bowl down on the table. He didn't know what to do, until Shiori opened her eyes. He shouted, “Juri! Juri, she's awake!”

Juri levered herself off the couch. The noise woke her, but the words had blurred in the lingering haze of sleep. “What is it? Is she alright-”

She stood up, and she saw. The shape of Miki's words snapped into a sensible shape belatedly. Her eyes were wide, and she forced her hands flat against her legs to stop them from clenching. Her mouth opened, soundless, as she held tight to her last breath until she could figure out what to do with it. At last, she said, “Shiori. How are you feeling?”

Shiori lay back on her pillow. Her eyelids fluttered, and she still coughed, but she tried to sit up even so. The effort resulted in high gasp, and she collapsed again. Juri closed the distance to the bed in two strides and leaned over her, bracing herself on the nightstand. As she did, Miki stepped back from the opposite side, worried that he might get in the way somehow. Juri repeated, “Shiori? Can you hear me? How are you feeling?”

The other girl's breathing evened out, and her gaze drifted back and forth aimlessly before she settled on Juri. Her brow furrowed. “I feel awful. What did you do?”

Juri tensed at that, folding her arms. The fact that Shiori was hurt, the fact that she was barely conscious, these were hard to register when that weak voice managed such sharp words. She wanted to rebuke Shiori for it, and maybe she should have, but Shiori's gaze had already lost its focus. Her mouth was a tight line, her fingers had tangled in the sheets, and she trembled visibly. There was nothing that Juri's desire, or any sense of self-righteousness, could do against that. She found herself looking at the floor before she could begin.

“ I found you on the exit ramp.” Juri paused, and looked across the bed to Miki. She found a certain stability in his worried face – at least he knew how to feel about the situation. She went on, “We took you out of there. Dare I say it, we saved you. You probably wouldn't be here otherwise.”

Shiori's laughter was short and shallow. She couldn't sustain more at the moment. “No, I wouldn’t. It’s funny how you act like you did me a favor that way.”

“Just what does that mean?” Juri knew, though. She only needed to hear what Shiori would say.

Shiori didn’t answer right away. Instead, she looked around the room “You’ve been taking care of me, haven’t you? But even the way you woke me up was a mess. What if I needed more rest?”

“So I guess we won’t be thanked,” Juri began, but Miki apparently detected an opportunity of some kind, and cut in, “That was my fault! I wasn’t paying attention, so you can’t blame her for that… ah… I’m sorry.”

He trailed off as both girls stared at him, neither looking especially friendly. He swallowed, gave Juri in particular a pleading look, and was surprised when she nodded. He didn’t know exactly what she was agreeing to, but her shoulders dropped, and she uncrossed her arms to tuck her hair behind her ear. 

“If you need more rest, fine. We’ll leave you to it,” Juri said, beckoning sharply to Miki. He followed her out, and she closed the door behind them as gently as she could, while being absolutely sure it clicked. 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I’m sorry,” Juri told him. 

His eyebrows lifted. He’d been expecting her to scold him. “It’s alright. There’s a ‘we’ here. I want to do what I can for you, and that means helping her.” 

She tilted her head slightly, examining him again, and then laughed. “You’re too sweet for your own good. But I appreciate it. I might need it.” In fact, she already did, and that wasn’t inclined to change any time soon. He only nodded sheepishly in reply, so she went on, “Right now, though, you should go. Study, rest. I will, too.”

“No.”

“What? Honestly, it’s nothing I can’t handle for a little while.”

“I’m sure you can, Juri. But that doesn’t mean you should handle it by yourself. And I can study just fine in your room; it’s even quieter than the library.” Also, he just knew he was going to be surrounded again. Dealing with Shiori’s tired remarks was simpler than fending off his classmates with a book shielding his chest

She laughed again, and this time, if he didn’t know better, he’d have thought she was sheepish. Then he realized, because he did know her fairly well, that she must have been, and was having mixed results concealing it. Sometimes, even princes lose their poise. Juri repeated, “You really are too sweet. Alright.”

She opened the door quietly, because, as she’d suspected, Shiori had fallen asleep again. They went inside together. Juri insisted on pulling a chair close to the bed, and letting him have the couch to spread out on. He didn’t argue. She fell asleep so quickly, even sitting up, that she clearly needed the rest one way or another.

* * *

The next week was a short one. No more waiting, no more hours of watching Shiori’s chest rise and fall and wondering if, despite everything, it would stop. Juri still worried when she changed the bandages, examining Shiori closely for any hint of green, but she did it with the other girl wincing and shifting at her touch.

They didn’t speak often. Juri would ask Shiori if she wanted anything. Shiori answered with a curt no, and then five minutes later, she would ask for something. Sometimes, she sounded embarrassed, or anxious, as if ashamed that she’d been unable to restrain her needs. Other times, she snapped like a furious queen, and seemed upset that Juri hadn’t guessed what she wanted. Juri could only say what Shiori sounded like, and not what the other girl’s thoughts were, so she responded quickly and quietly each time.

“Here.” She handed over another bowl of soup. “This one, right?” She handed over a book of poems about butterflies. “Do you need more ice?” She handed over a glass of water. On and on, without a complaint or a question, but Shiori only pouted at her. That, more than anything, nurtured Juri’s suspicions.

“Miki brought you the homework. If you’re feeling well enough, you can start getting caught up.”

At that, Shiori just shook her head. “Not today... Are you that eager to have me out of here?”

Juri replied with the ghost of a smile. “I asked for a single for a reason. It’s not about you.”

But Shiori’s smile turned sharp, the corners prickling at her caretaker. “Oh, no? I think it is, for once. But I guess that must be strange for you.”

“I don’t expect things to be about me all the time. Nor would I want it, the way you seem to.”

She stopped herself. Shiori stared at her, still smiling her thorny smile. That hadn’t been something Juri meant to say aloud. She turned away and picked up the stack of homework, tapping the already-straight pile against the desk several times. She turned them to do it horizontally, too.

From behind her, she heard, “It must be easy to say that, when everything already is about you.”

She didn’t turn around to respond. Keeping her voice even was a struggle. “Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true. The beloved Prince of the fencing club and the school. Why are you wasting your time with me? Just go back to where you belong.  _ I’ll _ get out of here one day.”

“Of course. Because that ended so well before.”

“That’s hardly my fault. I didn’t have any backup, unlike some people. Unlike… just about all of you.”

Finally, Juri spun back around. She didn’t even bother putting the papers down, clenching them in her hands to the point where they crumpled near to uselessness. “And whose fault do you think that is? After all, we used to…”

“We did a lot of things together,” Shiori giggled. “Before a certain someone got too busy for me.”

“That wasn’t what happened, and you know it,” Juri replied coldly. Shiori knew that much, but not more. At least, Juri didn’t think she knew the rest: the squirming in her stomach, how her waking hours were absorbed with the thought of the sweet, quiet  girl who never cared about beating her at fencing. The girl who’d shared time with her, without distance, unweighted by reverence. As ever-more people observed her instead from afar, as Juri gained in grades and skill and standing, Shiori had drifted away. 

Juri had wept over it in the past. In the present, she sighed, “Don’t laugh if you don’t mean it. I’m tired of being mocked.”

The other girl sat up, clutching the sheets to herself as if she didn’t consider the nightgown enough protection. “I’m not mocking you. I just think it’s funny… You have everything you want here, so it was easy for you to drag me back without a second thought. That’s selfish. Just because… you’re not strong enough to last without me. It would take one, single thing away from you, but you can’t have that!”

There it was. The accusation that had been hanging behind her every word, behind every straining giggle. Shiori had held it so close to her heart that she seemed unable to speak anymore. Everything between them came back to that; what more was there to say? She sat blinking, her lips parted, until she bit them closed. Juri stood over her, so tall and graceful even in her own numb silence that Shiori moved without realizing it. She threw a pillow at Juri, who caught it easily. She squeezed it as hard as she could, letting the papers tumbled down around her feet.

“So that’s what it’s about. But do you know what you were doing, really, when you tried to leave? How you almost hurt them?” Juri shook her head, answering her own question. “Do you understand what you did to yourself? I know about the exit because I know I’m not ready for it yet. But you… I can’t believe you!”

“I didn’t care. How did you miss that? I just didn’t want to be here anymore, and I wanted that one thing. To be the first out. Why is that bad?”

“Because you don’t need it. They did. Not us.”

“Not you! I’m sick of this place. I’m sick of you. I… I’m sick of this ‘us’ that you’ve held on to, without me,” She pressed her lips together tightly, but in spite of her best efforts tears overflowed soon enough, and the sight left Juri breathless for a moment. “I hate it.”

“I’m sorry,” Juri said. She bit her lip, too, and turned her gaze on the sheets. She’d been so wrapped up in how Shiori treated her, that she hadn’t thought about why. Not that this provided an excuse, but it did give her the clarity she’d sought. “I didn’t know you felt that way. But… I would still like an us with you. If you would.”

“Really? Is that it?” 

“No. You owe me an apology, as well. Unless… you were lying from the beginning.”

“What?” Shiori’s eyes narrowed.

“That’s right. Maybe I’ve grown selfish, just like you’ve grown jealous. But you didn’t take so much pleasure in hurting anyone before. I didn’t ask for this, and…” Juri reached up and clutched at her locket. “I missed you. That was all. I guess that’s not enough, but I regretted that we didn’t spend more time together.”

“So you were being dishonest, but I’m the liar?”

“I liked you because you cared about me before I was fencing captain, before I was somehow royalty.” She clutched the pillow to her chest, curling her arms over it, as though she were guarding it and not the other way around. “I was more than social capital to you. Maybe you found that overwhelming, in the end, but it meant something to me. If being cruel like this is really want you want, I can only assume that you were lying then, too.”

“I…” Shiori failed to grasp a response, and dropped back against the bed as Juri went on.

“Do you like it? Does it really make you feel better, isolating yourself?”

“What gives you the right to talk to me like this? Like you’re so much better than me?”

“Because you’ve been acting like… like a worse person than you are!” It sounded clumsy, but if she was going to be frank, it didn’t have to be pristine. The pounding of her heart wasn’t a pretty rhythm. “I’m not better than you. I never wanted to be, or thought that way. If anything, I thought so highly of you… If I was wrong, I’ll leave you. As soon as you’re well enough, you’ll never see me again.”

Shiori remained silent at that. The words clotted in the air. 

Juri pressed on, “So, is that what you want? I won’t let you avoid answering me any more.”

“No. I don’t, but… I don’t know what I do. What  _ to _ do.” She had no direction, unlike Juri. The other girl laughed, however, and leaned in. She placed her hands over Shiori’s shoulders and placed her lips so close to Shiori’s ear that she could feel them brushing slightly. 

“I’ll tell you a secret. Neither do I.”

* * *

A week later, Miki turned the key Juri had given him, and took his hand off the knob immediately after pushing the door open. He let it swing quietly, and then stuck his head in. “Hello?”

The two girls turned to look at him. Juri was, as usual, sitting in a chair by the bed. Shiori was in the bed, but propped up on pillows, with homework sprawled over her lap. 

“Come in, Miki,” Juri said. Shiori smiled with one corner of her mouth, and gave him a slight wave. 

“Ah, I brought this…” He held out a folder containing more paperwork. “There’s more for you, too, Juri. Do you have something for me?”

She nodded and stood up, stopping to stretch before she traded him for a folder with their completed assignments. The corner of one page stuck out, and he plucked at it. He asked, “What should I say? The teachers are asking me about why you can’t come to class, if you’re well enough to keep up like this.”

Juri opened her mouth to speak, but Shiori interrupted first. “That’s easy. Just tell them she’s got more important things to do.”

Miki shook his head, purely out of reflex. The idea of saying that to a teacher sent his stomach flipping, and he looked to Juri helplessly. Juri rested her chin on her knuckles, and laughed softly.

“That’s a good idea, Shiori.”

“What? Juri, I can’t-”

“No, calm down. It’s the right thing to say, but I should be the one to say it.” She took the folder back from him, and smiled. “I think I’ve had enough of waiting.”

“Oh, is that right?” Shiori pushed herself off the pillows, ignoring the papers that tumbled from her lap. “Can I come with you? I’d love some fresh air.”

“Alright, but you have to tell me if you feel tired. Agreed?”

“Fine,” Shiori said, though she accompanied this with an exaggerated pout. Juri helped her stand. Shiori swayed against her, and in the end, they found the most stable position involved Shiori’s arm around Juri’s waist, with the taller girl’s arm over her shoulder. Shiori’s cheeks reddened, and she murmured, “Oh…”

“What is it?” Juri asked.

“Oh. It’s just been so stuffy in here.” Shiori sniffed. “I was just wondering if we could get something to eat before we come back…” She smiled up at Juri.. “Think of it as a thank you present.”

Juri smiled thinly. “Alright. We’ll make it a date.” Shiori laughed, and nodded.

Miki pressed a hand over his mouth, and blushed deeper than either girl as he followed them out.


End file.
